


A Very Halloween Bet (for Agnes)

by whimsicalwombat



Category: The Blacklist (US TV)
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Halloween, I always feel bad for him in my shenanigan filled fics, poor Ressler, this may or may not have been loosely inspired by some B99 nonsense which then got kinda out of hand
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-19
Updated: 2019-11-19
Packaged: 2021-02-13 03:56:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21487957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whimsicalwombat/pseuds/whimsicalwombat
Summary: Agnes is set to visit the Post Office for a round of Trick-or-Treating and Aram, determined to make sure that the little munchkin isn't deprived of Halloween joy, forces poor Ressler (then Samar, then *spoiler alert*) to stoop to his childish costume and decoration level.AKA the one where our crazy taskforce team are in such dire need of levity between the doom and gloom of their caseload (not to mention an outlet for their collective stubbornness and competitiveness) that they spiral into the shenanigans of a Halloween bet.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 35





	A Very Halloween Bet (for Agnes)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Maci_the_Maci](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maci_the_Maci/gifts).

> Tadaaa! Here you go, @drawing-blacklisters. Sorry this took so long -the Ressler muse didn't feel like cooperating with me, so it took forever to write.
> 
> Regardless, I hope you enjoy it! :D

_ **RESSLER…** _

The first sign Ressler had that anything was amiss was the elevator doors. As they rumbled open, signaling his arrival at yet another work day, something curious caught his eye.

Ressler did a double take, eyeing the now open elevator doorway. 

He blinked. Then he raised a single, skeptical eyebrow.

_Why the hell was there a giant, rubber spider dangling from a cotton wool web, right in the middle of the doorway?_

Ressler rolled his eyes, striding out of the elevator and into the office. It was Halloween, he knew that much. But this was a workplace. A _professional_ workplace. He didn’t exactly need giant spiders dangling right in front of his face from the very moment he entered the office. 

A little holiday spirit wasn’t entirely unreasonable. Goodness knows they all needed a break from the doom and gloom that otherwise happened in their jobs.

_But surely, there had to be a line drawn somewhere, right? That spider was almost as big as his face! What if they had to bring in a suspect through that elevator? Or worse yet, a superior?_

Shaking his head, he strode past the concrete columns, one lazy eye glancing down at the emails already building up on his phone for the day. 

‘Morning, Agent Ressler,’ a familiar voice greeted him. He didn’t even need to look up to know that the face the voice belonged to was beaming.  
‘Morning, Aram,’ he replied, albeit while only half paying attention.

There was a pause with no response that rang through the air like crickets. Furrowing his brow, finally, Ressler glanced up. 

_Oh for Pete’s sake._

Behind him, Aram’s desk was draped in endless reams of cotton wool spider web and more rubber spiders, with slim, foam tombstones masking the backs of each of his computer monitors.

Aram himself sat there, wearing not just his usual suit and tie ensemble, but _some kind of cardboard box?_ Painted in silver, with a tin foil square and bottle caps stuck on for a screen and buttons, and with arm and head holes cut out, the box seemed to be set up so that he could wear the whole thing like a bizarre, robot dress. 

And as if _that_ wasn’t enough, a coil of wire poked up out of his hat and spiralled over to the other side, turning Aram’s head into some kind of circuit board. 

And as if that wasn’t enough, the grin stretched wide from ear to ear on Aram’s face.

Clearly, he was pleased with himself. 

‘What are you wearing?’ Ressler scoffed, breaking into a smirk. Aram blinked, his beam quickly contorting into a frown.  
‘My costume,’ the tech replied, a touch of indignation creeping into his tone. ‘It’s Halloween.’ 

Ressler paused, pursing his lips. His gaze shifted, glancing quizzically to Samar standing next to Aram’s desk with a musing smirk all of her own plastered all across her face.

_And thankfully no costume _

<strike> _…Yet._ </strike>

‘Given the extra security they need at the moment, Agnes can’t go trick or treating around the neighbourhood,’ Samar drolly explained. ‘So Liz is bringing her here for trick or treating tonight so that she doesn’t miss out.’   
‘And it’s not going to feel like real Halloween for her if we don’t decorate, so…’ Aram trailed off, gesturing pointedly at his costume. 

_Ok, that made at least a little more sense. _

Professional workplace or not, there was no way in hell Ressler was going to standby and watch Halloween be ruined for his goddaughter.

…Not that he was about to admit anything even close to that to the grown man in front of him who was dressed up in _a hand painted cardboard box,_ however. 

It looked like a children’s craft project, for crying out loud. And not even a _good_ one. 

_No. Someone had to maintain a sense of decorum around here._

‘So you dressed up as a computer?’ Ressler snorted.  
‘I told him it was a little on the nose,’ Samar mused. A gentle brush of her hand against Aram’s shoulder gave her teasing comment a pass and shifted the tech’s attention back to him instead, his eyes narrowing with a hint of annoyance.

‘At least _I_ dressed up as _something,’_ Aram countered. His eyes panned around the war room and all of his decorating handiwork, before finally settling back on his desk. The temporary frown began to ease, and Aram’s annoyance seemed to fade. ‘My desk will be Agnes’ favourite stop,’ he grinned.

Ressler narrowed _his_ eyes. That was a challenge. Aram was tapping into both his affection for Agnes and his competitive streak _just_ to manipulate him into dressing up in some silly costume, and he knew it. 

His jaw clenched, and he contemplated that for a second.

For all his naive, sweet tech guy image, Aram was better at acting and sneakiness than most gave him credit for. One only had to consider his -albeit limited- undercover experiences, the way he would work outside of the lines if he thought he needed to, and the way Aram had _completely hustled him_ at Ms Pacman to know _that. _

But Ressler wasn’t about to let any sign show that he was going to fall for his ruse. 

…Even if he was going to fall for his ruse.

_…And he knew it._

Nope. If Aram was going to raise those stakes, he would raise his own in kind. 

Upholding his dignity -or at least, _pretending_ to- would buy him some extra time to gain the upper hand. 

Shooting Aram one quick, last scowl, Ressler turned, striding back to his office.

He had some serious planning to do.

_…And fast._

_ **ARAM…** _

The first sign _Aram_ had that there was anything amiss was when _he_ passed through those rumbling elevator doors, returning from his lunch break. 

His early morning decorating efforts had been outstripped and then some, like some kind of giant Halloween pumpkin had exploded in the middle of the war room, sending an endless spatter of spiders, bats, skeletons, black and orange banners, bows, and goodness _what_ else all over the Post Office. 

He staggered out of the elevator, marveling around the war room as he moved slowly back towards his desk, awestruck. 

And then his gaze, panning around the room, landing on Ressler. 

Just visible around the corner from the centre of the war room, the ginger agent leaned against the door frame of his office, oh so casually munching away at what was unmistakably a sandwich brought in from home. 

_What the…?_

_But he had said he was taking his break early to beat the lunch queue at the cafe across the street…_

Aram narrowed his eyes, as Ressler’s lips pursed with a smug smirk. He strode towards him, the detail only growing clearer as he moved closer. The normally perfectly tied tie draped open and untied around his neck, dangling down the front of his shirt, with the top couple of buttons popped open. Through the gap below his collar was a stretch of bright blue fabric sitting underneath with the topmost tip of a white star just poking through above the highest button left done up, while an all too distinctive and equally bright blue mask with a giant white ‘A’ dangled like a carrot on a stick from the door handle.

It wasn’t much, but it was more than enough for Aram to know _exactly_ what costume Ressler had hidden under his suit like some kind of secret identity. 

He was Captain America. 

And Ressler and Samar thought _his_ computer costume was _too on the nose. _

_Yeah, right. _

Aram’s gaze swept over Ressler’s shoulder, eyeing the beginning of what appeared to be some kind of Avengers themed lair taking over his office, with profiles of movie villains, strips of glowing LED lighting, and the large Avengers ‘A’ sign all lying tauntingly scattered across his desk and just waiting to be hung up. 

‘What are you doing?’ Aram asked, narrowing his eyes doubly so. Ressler’s lip twitched. He took the last bite of his sandwich, scrunching the plastic wrapping into a ball in one hand as he chewed slowly in musing contemplation. Then he pushed himself forward from leaning against the door frame, tossing the ball across the room with lackadaisical expertise so that it landed _perfectly_ in the trash before finally, and simply replying;   
‘Decorating.’ The smirk tugged at Ressler’s lip, etching its way across his face. ‘For Agnes, remember?’

Aram frowned, watching Ressler slip seamlessly past him and head back towards the centre of the war room. 

That effortless cool guy act wasn’t about to intimidate him into backing down, nor was the fact that Ressler had a whole _office_ he could decorate rather than just a single desk.

Nope. 

Aram gritted his teeth, contemplating that. Ressler had upped the stakes, sure… But they still had some time left before Agnes arrived. 

He just had to think… And fast. 

_ **SAMAR…** _

Samar knew exactly what the boys were doing. 

Oh no, she wasn’t blind. 

Slightly memory impaired; yes. But blind? 

_Nope. _

Aram, always one to enjoy holiday festivities, had shamelessly delighted in putting together his costume given that their collective goddaughter would also be arriving for them all to indulge. Ressler’s skepticism of his costume and decorating efforts had left him indignant so Aram, of course, had subtly issued a challenge instead, forcing Ressler to meet him at his level.

Aram: 1.  
Ressler: 0.

Ressler, never to be outdone, had taken his lunch break early, slipping out right under Aram’s nose with the claim of buying lunch at the cafe across the street -never mind that he had brought in lunch from home already- and he had used the time to gather decorations and costume essentials, returning and getting a start on decorating his office before Aram returned from his own, slightly later lunch. 

And by the time Aram had returned, eyeing the decorations and the half-eaten, homemade sandwich in his teammate’s hand, it was too late. He had no break time left to do the same before Agnes was scheduled to arrive. 

…Which Ressler not only knew, but had planned for, before launching into a few subtle mind games of his own to boot.

Ressler: 1.  
Aram: 1.

But what neither of them realised was that she had been quietly watching both of them all along, and she knew exactly what they were up to. Engagement ring on her finger or not, there was no sympathising with Aram or telling him that she knew Ressler was up to something when Aram clearly hadn’t noticed yet, nor was there any chance of siding with Ressler against Aram instead in a show of pre-marital joking rivalry. 

Oh, no. The boys had gone head to head into battle without either of them looking at her once. 

So now, Samar was going to one up them both. It was every man, or *ahem* _woman,_ for themselves. 

Or at least, that was the plan anyway.

And the boys had no idea. 

Samar cackled softly to herself under her breath. She stood up straight, adjusting her pointed hat for a moment, before continuing her final lap around her office. Her dark cloak swished around her as she moved, bringing with it a surprising, unexpected level of satisfaction. 

_Huh. _

She had never really been one for Halloween before, but perhaps Aram was right.

It was kind of fun. 

With her laptop pushed slightly to one side, and blaring potion recipes in mock seriousness for effect, the space front and centre on her desk was now home to a cauldron atop a ‘fire’ of scrunched red, orange, and yellow cellophane. Bats hung wickedly from the top of her window, with a broomstick propped up against the wall, and spellbooks and old bottles from the pantry at home now covered in dust and re-labelled with potion ingredients scattered haphazardly atop each of her filing cabinets.

Even decorative LED candles immersed the office in flickering, lime green light. 

‘Hey, Samar-’ Ressler’s voice swooped in through her office door and Samar swivelled on the spot just in time to catch him come to a grinding halt in the doorway, looking up from the case file in his hands and suddenly gaping in surprise. 

Two steps behind him, Aram also scuttled along the corridor towards her, glancing up barely a nanosecond before colliding with Ressler still standing, stunned, in the doorway.

‘Whoa,’ Aram gasped. His dark eyes widened just as Ressler’s cool blues had done just seconds earlier, both of them sweeping their gazes across every last detail of the witch’s lair before them. 

‘You’re in on the bet,’ Ressler exclaimed. Accusation rang through his voice and Aram blinked, quickly doing a double take.  
‘What bet?’ He asked, furrowing his brow.  
_‘What bet?’_ Ressler scoffed as he raised his eyebrows, his head whipping around to stare back at him incredulously. ‘The bet over whose desk will look the best.’  
‘That’s not a bet, that’s a competition,’ Aram scoffed back. ‘If it was a bet, there’d be a wager on the outcome.’

The two men locked eyes with one another, both jaws clenched in irritable glares.

Samar folded her arms, her lip twitching with the struggle to hold in a smirk as she watched them in their wordless Mexican standoff. 

‘Fine,’ Ressler relented, gritting his teeth. He straightened his shoulders, glowering back at Aram. ‘Loser does the winner’s paperwork.’  
‘For a week,’ Samar interjected. A quiet, calm voice was all that was required, really. With both of them lobbying steady shots at one another in their doorway battle of wit like she wasn’t even there, even the softest of interruptions was more than enough to throw them both off. 

Both sets of eyes swivelled in their sockets in an instant. For a second Ressler simply blinked and then so too did Aram. Samar raised a single, wry eyebrow, _daring_ them to protest. That small smirk tugged at her lips, finally etching its way across her face as both half-suit-half-costume clad men in front of her grappled with the idea. 

Ressler furrowed his brow. Aram nodded slowly. 

They eyed one another for an extra beat before turning fully on the spot to face her. Ressler stepped forwards, one hand outstretched for her to grasp. Samar took it in hers, shaking it firmly, her eyes narrowing as Ressler’s lip only seemed to curl with impending competition.  
‘Deal.’

_ **COOPER…** _

Banners and bows competed with ghost balloons and hand carved jack-o-lanterns. The day wore on, and as one of them tried to raise the stakes, so too did the other two in kind. 

Ressler tugged on his Captain America mask, Aram added extra antennae to hit hat, and Samar even wrangled a plastic bat into sitting upright on the shoulder of her cloak. 

By the time those rumbling elevator doors rolled open and Liz stepped out, Agnes skipping along happily by her side in her flowing, pink, princess gown and shimmering silver tiara, all three were well and truly armed and ready for her arrival. The little girl marvelled in wonder at the war room that Robo-Aram had roped his fellow techs into turning into a faux cemetery complete with foam tombstones on every computer and inflatable ghosts hanging in cheery, Casper like fashion from the catwalk above their heads. 

She gasped, beaming with glee at the opportunity to take a potion making lesson in Samar-Witch’s lair, and even more so as she walked away with the reward of chocolate eyeballs and sour gummy worms being tipped into her pumpkin shaped basket. 

She even bounced on the balls of her feet, completely awestruck by Captain Ressler and the bounty of golden wrapped chocolate coins she received for helping him capture Ultron by assembling an Avengers villains puzzle at his desk.

Agnes and Liz, strolled around the Post Office hand in hand, the smile unable to wiped from the little girl’s face as they came to the end of their war room loop and finally… Began the trek upstairs.

Ressler, Aram, and Samar followed along closely behind, offering warm, adoring smiles for their collective goddaughter every time she turned her head… And battling with their elbows and gritted teeth every time she didn’t. 

With the grin stretched wide from ear to ear across her face, Agnes knocked on Cooper’s office door and then stepped inside with the rest of them quick on her heels. 

‘What-’ Samar’s eyes went wide, cutting herself off as she gazed, stunned, around the room.   
‘Mommy, _look,’_ Agnes gasped, ‘this is the best one in the _whole_ Post Office!’ Her bright blue eyes went wide, staring around the room in amazement. Meticulously painted boards all around the room gave each of the four walls the appearance of animated movie castle-like exposed bricks. Another set of identical boards surrounded Cooper’s desk, but with the added bonus of turrets at each end with long pink flags that fluttered whimsically in the light breeze from the fan in the corner of the room. A sparkly, pink rug sat proudly in the centre of the room, strings of fake flowers draped across the top of the window, and a small selection of teddy bears held a tea party on the sofa. 

Even Cooper himself boasted a hot pink tie from his soft grey suit, with a crown sitting tall on his head.

He rose from his desk as they entered, offering a low, Prince Charming-like flourishing bow to the little princess before him who lurched forwards, wrapping him up in the biggest hug that her small stature could muster. 

‘Sir,’ Ressler’s voice was the first to break their stunned silence. ‘When did you do all this?’

A small, wry smile tugged at the Assistant Director’s lips.

‘Yesterday,’ he replied, calm and matter of fact all at once. ‘When Agent Keen here asked if Agnes could come into the office, I made sure to ask what her costume plans were and then I decorated accordingly, which-’ he paused for effect, eyeing all three of them until Aram began to squirm and the other two squared their shoulders, stoic as ever ‘-you would all know if you had handed in your reports this morning instead of competing and leaving them until later.’

_Whoops._

‘This is amazing,’ Aram observed.   
‘I know.’ That smile on Cooper’s face began to widen further still, as he drolly added; ‘so I think it’s safe to say I win the bet, wouldn’t you?’

Three sets of eyes, one blue and two dark, all swivelled in their sockets at once. The breaths hitched in their throats as they glanced cautiously back and forth at one another, wordlessly deliberating like schoolchildren brought to the principal’s office and wondering who would betray the group first. 

Cooper’s eyes crinkled, his wry smile softening with amusement. 

But as Ressler, Samar, and Aram all relented, breaking into the soft smiles of knowing to humbly accept defeat, it was Liz who caught their collective eye. 

The final member of their team, standing there in affectionate silence while her little girl basked in all their doting attention, broke into a smirk of her own. 

‘Actually…’ Liz began, trailing off for an extra beat. She held their gazes, allowing the pause to linger tauntingly over their heads. ‘I don’t think we can fairly say any bet is over until you see _our_ entry.’ She glanced down, winking at her daughter. ‘Right, Agnes?’

And just like that, the dark haired little girl idling by her mother’s side, broke into a grin. Her bright blue eyes gleamed with mischievous agreement.

…And just like that, Ressler, Aram, and Samar swapped glances of mock exasperation. Suffice to say, not one of them was having their paperwork done for them over the next week but for the moment, as they took in the joy on Agnes’ face, none of them really minded. 

…That was to say, until Halloween rolled around again for the next year. 

And then, once again, the bet would be back on.


End file.
